‘I hope I do not understand you. She had discussed the general question of supplies with the helpful landlady. "At a place we call the Dark House at Queenhithe," answered Jonathan, "a sort of under-ground tavern or night-cellar, close to the river-side, and frequented by the crew of the Dutch skipper, to whose care he's to be committed. "This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. He was fast rising to an eminence that no one of his nefarious profession ever reached before him, nor, it is to be hoped, will ever reach again. She even hit the jackpot in 1952 when she found a photograph in a London issue of Vogue. Her husband was prouder of her every day.
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